


A Friendly Misdirect

by Whoareyou0000



Category: Now You See Me (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Characters Reading, Gen, Getting to Know Each Other, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Male Friendship, bookworms, mentalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 16:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21413086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whoareyou0000/pseuds/Whoareyou0000
Summary: Daniel and Merritt spend some quiet time together and learn that they don't hate each other after all. Hurt/Comfort. No Slash, just friendship and books!
Comments: 3
Kudos: 52





	A Friendly Misdirect

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Now You See Me or any of the characters or plot points. I also don't own East of Eden or The Stand.
> 
> Author’s Note: This is my first attempt at writing for this series, but I’m a big Zombieland fan and loved how Woody Harrelson and Jesse Eisenberg translated their friendship to these movies. This takes place following Now You See Me and before Now You See Me 2. No slash, just friendship. Enjoy and please let me know how I did!

Merritt and Daniel don’t hate each other.

At least, not in the way that Jack and Henley think. 

If they disagree at all, it’s because they have way more in common than they let on. 

Some of their similarities are fairly obvious, like how they both drink their coffee black and prefer quiet and a good book to small talk in their downtime. Then there are the big picture things, the things Merritt keeps to himself for now. 

These are things that Merritt knows, because his observational skills allow him to know things that the other three can only hypothesize on. So, when Daniel pads out of his bedroom around midnight, holding a book that is decidedly not the usual notebook of show plans, the older man simply lifts his expectant eyes from the discolored pages of his novel and nods in understanding. 

The young showman stops silently at the sight of the older mentalist lounging on the ratty old couch. The kid’s messy hair, long-sleeved cotton shirt, and simple black pajama pants indicate that he didn’t expect to have company tonight. The circles under his eyes say that sleep won’t be coming around for him anytime soon. 

Several silent seconds pass and Merritt smirks at the surge of annoyance wafting off the kid. He’s been wound so tightly since their year of skirting the law came to an end. They all have to some extent, their futures at the mercy of The Eye’s personal roulette wheel, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Daniel clawed his way out of the apartment with his own fingernails soon. 

Finally, Merritt gives the kid an out. In barely two movements, he scoots back against the padded armrest and bends his legs so that the farther half of the couch empties. Daniel lets out an audible sigh and claims the space, his back stick straight against the cushion and his legs tense against the seat. Slowly, he cracks open a novel with a white and gray cover and settles in. 

Merritt considers letting it be. This isn’t the first time they’ve shared reading space and, frankly, he doesn’t mind the company. The kid is much more accommodating of his quiet time than Jack, with his constant questions and hyperactivity, and Henley, with her never-ending perk and friendliness.

This silence is comfortable, and they could exist here all night. However, five minutes pass before Daniel turns a page. That is enough to catch Merritt’s interest. He studies the kid from beneath The Stand and makes a few mental notes. Daniel holds his book with knuckles so tense they’re turning white and his breath comes heavy and more rapid than a couch session should demand. He’s also working hard to keep his right leg from bouncing. 

Merritt makes a decision and utters a question, which is really more of statement, during the turn of a single page. 

“That’s the one with the fratricide, right?” 

Daniel doesn’t look up from the text. His response is barely loud enough to register and contains a typical smart-ass retort. 

“That’s impressive, considering it’s one of the most well-known literary works in history.” 

Merritt chuckles. He enjoys this far more than he lets on. 

“So, it is. Just missed our friendly banter, I guess.” 

“Is that what this is?” Merritt can feel the kid’s smirk. “Because I just came out here to read.”

“That sounds good to me, kid.” He waits, biding his time until he spots Daniel’s brief hesitant glance in his direction. “Unless you want to talk about why you’re not sleeping. I’m told I’m pretty good at scaring monsters out of closets. Something about my crooked nose.” 

Daniel shifts on the couch and adjusts East of Eden between his hands. Finally, he turns a page. Merritt takes this as his answer, and even goes back to reading about Randall Flagg and his Vegas outpost. Then the showman shifts again, and he feels a roadblock lowering. 

“Henley says you’re good at keeping secrets. I know we’re not really friends, but if I told you something private, would you still keep it to yourself?” 

Merritt places the old receipt in his book and lowers it to the side. Then he adjusts his crumpled t-shirt and boosts himself up to a full sitting position. He faces the younger magician with a friendly sigh and a kind smile.

“Magicians are full of secrets, Danno. I keep thousands of them, some of them belong to me and some of them belong to the people I’ve read. I haven’t told one yet, and I’m sure not gonna start with yours.” 

Daniel’s wide eyes meet his for the first time tonight. Merritt sees the crinkles of uncertainty surrounded by a darkening sadness. He smiles when Daniel’s face relaxes in something akin to acceptance. He carefully inserts the bookmark between his pages and sets the book gingerly on his lap. Then he blinks twice, licks his lips, and exhales. 

“Tomorrow, I guess technically today, is November 13th. I hate November 13th. I…it’s the anniversary of my dad’s death. Suicide, with a shot gun. A fucking shot gun, like, who does that right? I guess that’s where I get my dramatic flair from. Of course, I was the one who found him because why hide your bloody corpse from your 5-year-old? To be fair he almost drank himself to death long before November 13th and he probably would have been dead like three years later from liver failure anyway but, it still hurts.” 

Daniel lifts his stare from his lap for the first time and Merritt meets the wide eyes of a frightened child. 

“It’s been twenty years and it still hurts.”

Merritt sorts through the layers of emotions bombarding him from the young man across the couch. He feels the sadness combined with the anger and fear of a kid abandoned when he needed a father more than anything. The emotion that stands out more than any other, though, is confusion. Sitting still, not having a show to plan, doing nothing, all give Daniel plenty of time to feel and, right now, he has no idea what he is supposed to be feeling. 

Merritt knits his eyebrows together, purses his lips, and rubs his cheek with his right hand. 

“You’re right, it does hurt. Parents are a tricky thing, kid. They can be the shittiest people you ever meet and yet you’re programmed to love them unconditionally forever. Now that’s confusing for a grown man, and most definitely for a little boy. It’s okay if you don’t know to feel about all of it.” 

Daniel turns back to his lap and mindlessly picks at the frayed edge of his book. 

“Last year we were so busy with the show and The Eye and now, there’s just nothing. No distractions. I was trying to fall asleep and all I could think about was how I wanted to climb down the fire escape and run far the fuck away from here. Just anywhere, you know? Fucking Florida or Ohio.” 

Merritt laughs. Daniel shoots him a familiar glare and twists his body into a loose pretzel to face the mentalist. 

“I’m sorry are you, are you laughing at me right now? Wow, people actually pay you $10 for this? That’s unbelievable. I’m touched by your lack of compassion.” 

“In all the right places I hope.” The older man retorts, earning the desired eye roll from his new favorite smartass. “Sorry Danno, but Ohio? I think we can find a better place for your distraction.” 

Daniel shrugs. “Okay, oh wise one what do you suggest?”

Merritt glances at the book in the kid’s lap and grins. Daniel’s impatience grows with each passing second. 

“You ever been to Monterey?” 

“Monterey? As in California?”

“As in Steinbeck. You’re a fan, I’ve seen you reading and rereading that book for a year now. So, let’s take a little field trip.” 

Daniel’s face softens briefly, and he grips his book with loosened fingers.

“How? With what money?”

“Well, we’ve got the company credit card, don’t we?” Daniel shakes his head, hiding his first smile of the night. “What? I know a great magic shop out there. We’ll call it a business trip.” 

Merritt watches the kid’s face change from reluctant, to thoughtful, and land on excitement. Then he silently congratulates himself on a job well done. 

“Should we invite the others?”

Merritt knows his answer immediately. The real Daniel gets lost in Jack and Henley's theatrics. More than anything, he wants to see more of the real Daniel. 

“Nah, they won’t appreciate it. We’ll leave a note.” Merritt cackles and claps his hands. “Well get to packing, kid.” 

They drop their books and dispatch to opposite rooms. Ten minutes later Daniel meets Merritt outside with a small duffle bag and a question.

“Hey, uh, Merritt, I gotta ask. Why are you doing this for me?” 

Merritt looks into the young man’s eyes and sees roadblocks toppled over. It won't last long, he figures. Someone with that much trauma can't survive without them forever. For now, though, he sees straight through to the young man who reminds him too much of himself. 

“We’re friends, Danno. That’s why.” 

He pulls the young man closer and claps him on the shoulder. 

“Just don’t tell the others. They loove to think we hate each other.”


End file.
